


In the Still of the Night

by Christabelle23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27256027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christabelle23/pseuds/Christabelle23
Summary: Hermione had noticed some strange things lately, but she tried not to think too much about it. One night she realizes maybe she should have thought more about it because she is suddenly confronted with something (and someone) from her worst nightmares, but will things transpire like she initially imagined? EWE. Also posted on FF.net.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fenrir Greyback
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	In the Still of the Night

Hermione Granger sat straight up in bed. The hair on her arms was standing up. Her skin felt clammy with sweat. Her heart was beating inexplicably fast considering she had just been sound asleep. Her eyes were flitting around the room, trying to find the disturbance that had woken her in the limited light filtering through the window. 

What was that she wondered as her hand felt for the wand that was still housed in the holster on her wrist. The only time she took it off these days was to bathe or clean under it, and even then she kept it within reach at all times. Following the war Hermione, much like everyone else, had been constantly looking behind her for sources of danger. With time that had faded into a comfortable existence, and these days most people were more relaxed. Voldemort and the majority of his followers were either dead or locked up in Azkaban. Those who weren’t, had fled to other countries or were in hiding at this point to avoid being captured, so most people felt no need to worry. 

Recently though Hermione had been noticing just enough odd things to put her on edge. Odd things such as a light left on when she was certain it had been off the night before, a mug left in the sink even though she knew she had cleaned up after her nightly cuppa, a stray hair on the carpet of her bookshop office that she knew most certainly did not belong to her or one of her friends…so her paranoia had increased. She never put her wand down for more than a second, she left lights on all the time, and increased her wards to be stronger and notify her the moment someone crossed them. Suddenly it clicked. 

The wards were what had woken her up. At the realization of what that meant, she panicked even more. She closed her eyes for a moment to feel out which wards had fallen but found nothing. That meant that whoever had breached them did so without tearing any of them down entirely. Usually that would be a good sign, meaning it was a friend or family member who had access anyway. However, she knew that whoever had been sneaking around here lately was not someone who she had given access too. 

Her breathing was coming quicker now as she tried to formulate a plan. Sure, she could apparate away but whoever was there would likely stay until she came back, or leave and return later. She needed to find out who was invading her space and what they wanted. She would never have peace of mind without finding out what was going on. Sure she could call Harry or Ron and one of them would be there immediately, but something stopped her from doing so. She felt like she needed to figure this out on her own. 

Listening intently, the thunk, thunk of heavy footsteps on her stairs was unmistakable. The steps were slow, and hesitant as if the person were sneaking around and trying not to get caught. Jumping up, Hermione quickly started waving her wand, increasing the protection of the wards on her bedroom and doing everything in her power to keep whoever was out there out there. She stood then, her back to the window, facing the door and waiting. If nothing else she could apparate away if whoever came in was intent on hurting her, but she would not back down without a fight, she had to know who it was.

The house fell silent as she waited, almost as if the other person was waiting too. She could hear herself panting and tried to focus on calming her breathing down. After a moment Hermione heard a groan and then a curse as if someone were in pain. The voice was deep and rough, making a shiver go down her spine. Hermione knew that voice, but she couldn’t quite place it. 

“Granger if you can hear me I’m not here to hurt you,” The voice said right outside her door, “I need help girly.” 

Hermione’s body froze, but her heart seemed to beat ten times faster. She could place the voice now. Fenrir Greyback was in her house. He had been the one stalking her for weeks. He had been in her house, in her store, and who knows where else. The thought of the dangerous man invading her space made Hermione shiver. Knowing anyone had been in her private space was anxiety inducing, but knowing it was someone with such a dark past made it even worse.

Greyback had been cleared of some crimes after the war, stories having been exaggerated and in some scenarios him having been imperiod or worse, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still a ruthless man. He was still hated by nearly all of Wizarding society and that would likely never change. The two year sentence he had served in Azkaban following the end of the Second Wizarding War was not enough for anyone to be comfortable with him being around. 

Another groan of pain from the hall caught Hermione’s attention. “Please gir…fuck…girly. Promise I won’t hurt you, just need help.” She could tell he was genuinely in pain, but she knew she still needed to be wary of him.

Hermione was battling with herself. On one hand she was hesitant to let someone potentially bleed out on her hall floor, on the other hand she was afraid to open the door and be attacked by the man that was out there. 

“What do you want Greyback?” Hermione called out, her voice shaking as she said his name. Her wand was still held tight in her hand, waiting for something to happen, she just didn’t know what. 

“Going to die without your help girly,” His voice was broken as he spoke, “My word that I won’t hurt you and I’ll explain when I can, but need help now.”

“Shit,” Hermione mumbled under her breath as she debated with herself what to do. Before she fully realized what she was doing, Hermione was across the room and opening the door to the hallway. 

On his knees and leaning against the wall for support, Greyback had never looked weaker or less threatening to Hermione. Hermione pointed her wand directly at him, never wavering as she tried to take stock of the situation. She stayed hovering in the doorway hoping that if he suddenly made a move to harm her she would be able to jump back into her room and shut the door for more protection. 

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked. Her eyes roaming his figure and looking for obvious signs of injury or impairment. She could feel the anxiety coursing through her body at the fact not only was she face to face to face with Fenrir Greyback but it was the middle of the night and in her home. 

“What do you know about soulmates?” His voice was raspy as he spoke. 

“What?” Hermione asked with confusion obvious in her voice. What did that have to do with anything?

Greyback groaned in pain again and doubled over grabbing his chest. “All people have mates. If you’re a werewolf you can figure out who your mate is easily, but most witches and wizards never find them. If you do find them, you’re always drawn to them. The more exposure you have to them, the more heightened your emotions are around them, the worse it is. You can try to ignore it but eventually you have no choice: mate them or die.”

“What are you trying to say Greyback?” Hermione’s voice rose an octave as she spoke. Her wand hand wavered slightly betraying the emotions she was feeling. 

Fenrir growled under his breath, “You’re the brightest witch of the age or so they say. You know what I’m trying to say girly.”

“You mean to tell me I’m your soul mate, or I have access to who is?” Hermione scoffed and eyed Greyback skeptically. The thought of her belonging to him in any sense of the word felt wrong, but the more she dwelled on it the more it felt right at the same time. 

“Fuck.” Fenrir suddenly exclaimed. He fell so he was no longer leaning against the wall but was sitting on the floor with his back against it and his legs out in front of him. His head was tilted back against the grey wall and his eyes drifted closed. He looked so out of place in her little hallway.

Hermione was battling with herself as she debated what to do. The man was obviously in pain, extreme pain if her estimate of his pain threshold was even close to correct. He had also been following her for a while now based on when she began noticing things out of place. Most likely Hermione hadn’t noticed he was following her right away which meant he had been following her even longer than she knew. This man could be an immense danger to her, her loved ones and society as a whole but she felt a responsibility to help him.

“I’ve tried to stay away Granger, I really have. I just…I couldn’t do it anymore. The pain is too extreme. The desire too strong.” His voice was softer when he spoke again. Hermione had never heard him use that tone of voice before. He had always been harsh when speaking so hearing the softness in his voice struck Hermione.

“What do you need me to do?” Hermione finally asked. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”

“Come here.”

Hermione was terrified to move closer but she did. She knelt down on the floor beside him, the hard wood cool beneath her knees and her wand still held tightly in her hand. Fenrir reached out a hand slowly, stopping when Hermione flinched but continuing once she relaxed and didn’t pull away. His hand landed on her cheek. She could feel how large his hand was compared to her head, how is long fingers spanned across her cheek. He trailed a finger over her face slowly and as he did his breathing deepened and slowed. Hermione stayed still as Greyback’s hand moved slowly over her face. 

“One kiss.” His voice broke through her thoughts. “One kiss and I should be able to explain everything. Can’t think with you this close and in this much pain.”

Hermione looked down at him, her eyes locking with his. The look in his eyes was so serious Hermione couldn’t look away. Fenrir was trying to convey so many things at once with a single look and it was captivating. As Fenrir moved closer to her, she was unable to move. She was held in place by the gravity of his stare and her own desire to see if he was being genuine and what that would mean for her.

Fenrir’s hand slid around from her face to tangle in the base of her hair at her neck, pulling her face closer. Just before their lips met Fenrir let out a moan that was a cross between pleasure and pain. The kiss was not soft or sweet, it was needy and rough. Hermione’s lips moved against Fenrir’s as quickly as they could, trying to match his movements. Neither of them could deny the tension that surrounded them and the physical need that the kiss incited in them. 

Fenrir’s hands moved down Hermione’s body, sliding over her sides and coming to rest on her hips. With ease he lifted her and settled her on his lap. Her arms moved around his neck and she held his head tighter to hers as he began to kiss her more aggressively. Hermione’s body grew hot as her arousal grew. Feeling his growing erection against her center made Hermione finally pull away in an effort to not let herself lose control. Fenrir let out a groan and moved to kiss down her neck, trailing light nibbles along her jaw line and up under her ear. His teeth closed around her ear lobe, biting ever so slightly and pulling away with his teeth and making her moan. 

“Stop.” Hermione said, pushing Fenrir away from her as much as she could. Her voice was breathy and the lust was clear, but he stopped as soon as she uttered the word. “You have a lot of explaining to do and I still can’t trust you.”

“Never hurt you girly, never.” His voice was deep in her ear but he let her get up and move away from him. “Talk in your room?”

Her room was the last place that Hermione felt they should talk, but seeing that the man in front of her was still in a weakened state Hermione agreed. Fenrir slowly raised himself off the floor, using the wall to push himself up, and followed her to her room. Hermione flipped on the light in her room, one of the perks of having a converted muggle home was modern electricity, even if it occasionally fritzed out because of the overuse of magic. Fenrir made himself comfortable on the bed and made the motion for her to join him which was ironic seeing as it was her bedroom. 

“Start explaining.” Hermione said as soon as she sat down across from him. She grabbed one of the square throw pillows off the bed and hugged it to herself, trying to make a barrier between them and allow herself the small comfort. He hadn’t hurt her yet, and she didn’t feel like he was going to but Hermione was still wary. The fact that Fenrir Greyback was in her bed right now sent a shiver down her spine and she was really unsure of whether it was desire or fear, or perhaps a little bit of both. 

“Having soulmates is something that most people think is just fantasy.” Fenrir started out his story. “Like everything else you believed didn’t exist as a kid, before you found out about magic, they do. Werewolves can sense their mate because of their heightened senses. Wizards and witches can use a spell to determine their mate but it’s not well known because of the complications related to it. If you discover your mate it can be nearly impossible to ignore and there are the obvious complications like the pain and inability to take another partner without all parties suffering. ”

The room was silent other than Fenrir talking and their breathing. Hermione was focused on his words and trying to analyze everything he said as quickly as possible. She was nervously playing with the edge of the pillow, rolling the fabric between her fingers. She cleared her throat when Fenrir finally stopped speaking and then asked, “So I could try the spell to prove that you’re not lying to me?”

Fenrir laughed and it was a deep, throaty sound, “If I was lying to you would I be in almost no pain compared to how I was earlier? Wouldn’t I have hurt you by now girly? But yes, ye could use the spell to determine I’m telling you the truth.”

“Do you know the spell?”

“Of course I know the spell.” Fenrir rolled his eyes at Hermione. 

Hermione gave him an exasperated look and the frustration she was feeling came through in her voice, “Well can you tell me what it is?”

“Gir…Hermione. I’ll tell you the spell but I need to know what your intentions are first. If you’re going to leave me to die it’s best that you don’t do the spell so you can pretend you don’t actually know that I’m your mate. You’ll be safer that way. Able to go on without it hurting like hell.” His voice was soft as he finished his statement. The two of them just let his words hang in the air between them for a moment, their eyes locked in a heated moment. 

“You really think I would let you die?”

“Course. Why wouldn’t you?” Fenrir replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “You helped me tonight because you were curious. Harry Potter’s muggleborn best friend has no business being stuck with the Dark Lord’s pet werewolf does she?” His voice was bitter as he spoke, letting his emotions become apparent to Hermione. She didn’t know if he regretted being a Death Eater or if he just loathed that he was known as Voldemort’s pet but his disdain was obvious. 

“I won’t just let you die. Blimey, what kind of witch do you think I am?”

Fenrir fixed her with a glare, “In case you forgot, we don’t know each other. You know nothin about me, and I know nothin about you.”

“But you know we are soulmates?” Hermione countered with a quirk of her eyebrow. 

Before Hermione could do anything else, Fenrir grabbed her and flipped them so she was pinned to the bed under him, the pillow she was holding caught between them awkwardly.

“Tell me Hermione,” His voice was deep and husky in her ear making goosebumps appear across her arms and legs. “Is your heart beating right now from fear or excitement? Has any man ever gotten you quite so aroused without hardly touching you? Because I assure you, being near me like this you are very aroused, even if you don’t know it. Have you ever wanted to snog someone quite so much even though you know you should run away screaming and call for help from your Auror friends? Did you ever think you could feel this safe in the company of Fenrir Greyback?”

Hermione locked eyes with him and contemplated his words. Everything he questioned her about was true. She knew it was and she was terrified. They were alone in her room, no one knew he was there and no one would begin to look for her if something happened until at least two days from now if she didn’t show up for work on Monday. 

“Tell me the spell Greyback.” Hermione muttered finally, her voice firm but still quiet. His hips were pressing against hers, creating friction that reminded her intimately of what had transpired in the hallway. “Tell me the spell and let me decide what I am going to do after that.”

Fenrir pushed back so he was no longer leaning over her. As he moved to the other side of the bed again and let her right herself he said, “The spell is revelare anima mate. You move your wand like this.” Fenrir demonstrated the motion for her using his outstretched hand.

Hermione mimicked his movements using her wand, but he quickly grabbed her hand and stilled her. “Not like that. Let me show you.”

Standing up, Fenrir motioned for her to do the same. Hesitantly Hermione moved to stand in front of him. He moved behind her and stepped as close as he could without pressing his front to her back. He grasped her wand hand in his gently, guiding her through the motions several times. After several tries she got the motions right and Fenrir stopped back with a pleased nod.

“How do I know what the spell results mean?” Hermione asked while watching Fenrir get comfortable on her bed once more. “And how do I know you’re not trying to put one over on me?”

“If I’m your mate, the spell will put a matching mark on both of our left wrists. The mark is different for everyone. You should also see a vision of your mate in your head from my understanding. When you finally figure out that I’m not lying to you, we can get you all the books on the topic that you want. Until then, take my word for it.” Fenrir was laying across her bed so casually that Hermione couldn’t help but stare at him. He was propped up against the wooden headboard, long legs stretched out in front of him, looking so at ease but so out of place. The trousers he wore were khaki and appeared to be clean but well worn. His dark green shirt was fitted across the chest and arms highlighting his muscles but also appeared to be thin and looked like it had seen better days. Shaking her head Hermione turned slightly away from Fenrir but still allowing herself to see him in her peripheral vision.

Hermione’s voice was shaky as she said the spell but her intent was loud and clear as she moved her wand confidently in front of her. The light blue wall of her bedroom faded away and was replaced by a bright white light, someone appeared to be walking towards her and all she could make out was a tall, strong figure. Suddenly the man’s face appeared and she gasped out a harsh breath moments before the vision faded and she was back in her bedroom. 

Collapsing to the floor, her knees suck into the familiar soft carpet reminding her of where she was and what was happening. Hermione looked towards the bed where Fenrir was still sitting atop her flowered duvet, looking much more nervous than he had a few moments ago. His left arm twitched when she glanced down at it and she could tell he wanted nothing more than to check and see if there was a mark. Looking down at her own wrist Hermione knew to expect something, but she just didn’t know what.

“Well? Fenrir asked after a moment of Hermione staring down at her wrist. He couldn’t take the tense silence anymore, he needed to get her reaction to all of this. 

Hermione looked up at him, “You tell me. If we’re mates like you said then shouldn’t there be a matching mark on your wrist right now?”

Fenrir laughed, “So feisty. Besides girly, I wasn’t the one who needed a mark to tell me who you are.” He finally looked down at his arm and Hermione could see as he visibly relaxed. 

“Well?” Hermione repeated his question with a smirk. Her thumb was absent mindedly running over her wrist where the mark was. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Fenrir gave Hermione a smirk that made her stomach clench.

She rose from the ground and moved towards the bed. “On the count of three.”

“One.” Fenrir sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Two.” Hermione took the final steps towards the bed so she stood just before him.

“Three.” They spoke in unison and both held their wrists out at the same time. 

Looking down, Hermione couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her as she tried to process what she was seeing. “What does this mean?”

Fenrir’s voice was soft as he spoke, “I think you know exactly what it means.”

Hermione looked into his eyes, heartbeat accelerating and palms growing increasingly sweaty as she took in everything she had learned that evening. She took a small step back, putting space between the two of them again and moved her hand to cover her arm. With her hand covering the small, pale wolf figure that was now seemingly etched into her skin, Hermione allowed herself to breathe. Looking down at her feet, she slowly counted back from ten.

“You have two marks Greyback.” Her voice was firm as she spoke. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, there are two other parts of my soul.” Greyback locked eyes with her. “You, and another who is long since gone.”

“You had another soul mate? How does that even work? Logically how can someone’s ideal other half not be one person?”

Fenrir’s sigh cut her off. “Hermione, I am part wolf for all intents and purposes. Very animalistic. Does it surprise you I would have multiple partners?”

“That is way more information than I can process right now.” Hermione mumbled, biting her lower lip and running a frustrated hand through her hair.

“Let me go make you a cuppa and then we can talk about this like rational adults.” Fenrir went to stand up. “Or better yet, we sleep on it and figure it all out in the morning.”

Hermione scoffed, “Not bloody likely.”

“That’s what I figured. Sit, I’ll be back.” 

Before she had time to argue Fenrir was moving across her room and out the door. Hermione settled heavily on her bed, scooting all the way back to the top corner so her back could be pressed against the wall. Hesitating for a second, she then slid her wand into the holster on her wrist. If Fenrir was going to hurt her, he would have done it by now. She pulled her knees up to her chest, and hugged them tightly to herself, her chin resting on top. 

While she waited for Fenrir to come back with tea, she let her eyes slipped closed. After casting the spell the figure she saw was definitely him. Even before he turned towards her, Hermione knew that tall, broad frame belonged to him. When he did turn towards her she was momentarily struck by the brightness of his eyes and how they contrasted with the dark grey tone of his hair. He was not handsome by traditional standards but there was something striking about him all the same. Hermione couldn’t tell if she was attracted to him and curious because he exuded a sense of danger or if there was more to it. 

“Lost in thoughts ay?” Fenrir’s throaty voice cut through Hermione’s thoughts making her jump. He chuckled and held out her favorite mug to her. “Drink up, it will help you relax.”

Hermione sniffed it and eyed the contents curiously. “Did you put something in it?”

“No, it’s just a blend that should help you relax. Plus no caffeine so you can sleep afterwards. Everything is from your kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Hermione muttered and then took a hesitant sip, reminding herself that if he was going to hurt her he would have by now.

“Years ago I met a man, he was well respected but a terrible man. I was always drawn to him no matter how deplorable I found him. When I turned of age I realized why I was drawn to him, he was my mate. Obviously he wasn’t a werewolf so he had no clue who I was to him. Only six months after I discovered him, he was murdered. Since we had never acknowledged the bond I was fine without him but it still hurt like hell.”

“I’m sorry.” Hermione muttered when Fenrir stopped speaking. “Who was he? How did you know about mates? How did you know he was your mate? How did you figure out I was your mate? When did you figure it out?”

Fenrir’s laugh was a deep dark sound that seemed out of place coming from him. “He was a Malfoy, that’s all I’ll tell you about that one. He got pissed with his mates and they all cast the spell, that’s how I was able to put it all together. I happened to be there and saw his mark and noticed my own appear. That combined with what I had already suspected made it obvious.. As far as you, that’s a little different.” Fenrir was hesitating as he tried to figure out how to respond. He was tapping his hand against his thigh revealing how anxious he actually was. 

“Was it the night you took us to Malfoy Manor?” Hermione questioned softly.

“The night we broke into Hogwarts, I could smell something incredible. I had a feeling whatever it was was my mate, but I didn’t know. When we caught you it solidified for me that I had another mate. My whole being screamed for you.”

“You said so many vile things…”Hermione whispered. “So many threats against me.”

“Hermione, you have to understand during the war a lot happened that I’m not proud of and will regret for the rest of my life. In that moment I was incredibly drawn to you but could only express it vulgarly. If the only way I could have you was after Bellatrix was done with you, then that was what I would settle for rather than watch another person who was destined for me be killed by the people I was associated with.”

Fenrir turned to face Hermione more directly, he looked up to try and catch her eyes but she was focused on her hands resting on her legs. He slowly extended a hand and put it on top of hers which caused her to look up at him. “I fully expect you to tell me you can’t do this Hermione. I’m willing to make that sacrifice of myself. I just…I couldn’t let myself die a painful death without knowing for sure and giving you the opportunity to make the decision.”

“I won’t let you die.” Hermione said resolutely. “I don’t know how we’ll make this work, but I won’t let you die.”

“Sweet, sweet girl.” Fenrir whispered. “I don’t deserve you. Are you sure? Because if we agree to try and make this work, I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk away from you ever.”

When she nodded in response to his question Hermione felt herself fill with a sense of nervous anticipation. She had essentially just signed her life and body over to the devil. The road ahead of them would not be easy, but they would figure it out because she wouldn’t let him live or die without her, and she had never felt this electrified by a person before.

“Gonna kiss you girly, okay?” Fenrir moved in slowly so she had time to move away but Hermione just moved in to meet him half way.

This kiss was much slower than the first one had been. The urgency that Greyback had exhibited earlier was now replaced by a slow, deep exploration. He took his time when moving his lips against hers. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth before letting it go. Fenrir grabbed her by the hips, situating her on his lap as he continued to kiss her at a leisurely pace. Hermione was giving as good as she got and found herself getting lost in his kiss. Their hands were running over each others bodies, touching as much as they could reach but neither straying too far until Fenrir’s hands went to the bottom of her pajama top.

Fenrir broke the kiss and started to pull her shirt up, giving Hermione time to stop him but pulling it entirely off when she didn’t object. His eyes settled on her breasts, small and perky with dusky pink nipples standing erect. The cool air on her skin made Hermione shiver and goosebumps appeared on her skin.

“So pretty,” Fenrir mumbled as he leaned in to kiss her again. He was more aggressive with his kiss this time, and quickly began to kiss down her neck as well. When he reached the base of her neck he bit down, making Hermione cry out with pleasure. Her back arched which pressed their lower bodies harder together. Fenrir continued to suck on her neck, making Hermione whimper and rock against him.

He removed his lips from her neck and reached down to pull his own shirt off. When his upper body was exposed Hermione couldn’t help but look over him appreciatively. His muscles were as well defined as she had imagined through his clothes. His chest was covered in a fine layer of hair that ended in a trail down to the waistband of his trousers. Hermione ran her hands up his toned stomach and over his chest. The hair on his chest was softer than she imagined it to be and she found that she liked the feel of it under her hands. She had always found manlier men more attractive and chest hair was definitely one of the more desirable features in her eyes.

“If we keep going, I’m going to fuck you fast and hard. If you don’t want that, stop me now.” Fenrir’s voice was rough as he spoke. One of his hands was trailing up and down her side, while they other was alternating playing with her nipples.

Hermione pulled back from him, standing up beside the bed. Fenrir groaned and closed his eyes. Hermione could hear him counting backwards making her chuckle. She pushed her pajama bottoms down over her hips and waited, standing there in just her black panties. When he opened his eyes Hermione could see the shock there. 

“Little witch, I thought we were done.” Fenrir growled and jumped off the bed. He stood in front of her and looked up and down the length of her body making her blush. He reached for the snap of his trousers, maintaining eye contact he pushed them down over his hips. Hermione found herself shocked at the fact he wasn’t wearing any pants but that was quickly overshadowed by the desire she felt at the sight of his impressive erection. 

Fenrir took a step towards her, closing the gap between them and putting his hands on her hips. He picked her up, then proceeded to lay her down on the floor. He propped himself up above her and leaned in to kiss her softly. He trailed kisses down her body, stopping at her nipples and sucking on them gently. 

The trail of kisses continued down over her stomach, and down her right thigh. He stopped right around the waistband of her panties and looked up at her. The dark lusty look in his eyes filled her with a anticipation. He leaned back and rested on his haunches, his hands slid up her legs and grabbed her panties. He pulled them down slowly, revealing her pussy to him. Hermione was glad she had trimmed down there just the other day, knowing that she was neatly groomed gave her an extra boost of confidence when being naked in front of the fit man. 

Fenrir leaned in and placed a kiss above her mons pubis, then kissed down to her slit. He slid his tongue out and gave a long lick, making them both moan. He quickly got into a rhythm of licking, sucking and kissing making her moan as he discovered all her most sensitive spots. He added his fingers and slipped them inside her, adding to the pleasure she was feeling. Her hips were grinding against his face and hand, trying to get more stimulation. 

“Tell me how to touch you.” Fenrir growled as he pulled back from her pussy for a moment. 

“Tell me what will make you scream little witch.”

Hermione bit her lip and considered what to say. She had always struggled to achieve orgasm, both alone and with a partner but knew it was possible with a few key components. “The easiest way will be if you fuck me and choke me at the same time. I can rub my clit while you do and it should get me there.”

Fenrir groaned at her response. “You’re going to kill me with requests like that. Are you sure you want me to choke you?” 

Hermione knew it was an odd request considering she had been terrified of the man only a few short hours ago, but she also knew she needed him to take that control and ability to think away from her. She nodded her head and reached out for him, her hand wrapping around his forearm. “I trust you.”

Fenrir leaned in, one arm holding her hip, the other wrapping around his cock. He pumped it a few times, spreading the precum around the head. Slowly, Fenrir dragged the head up and down her slit, getting it wet with her juices. Eyes locked together, Fenrir slid his cock inside her. Both of them moaned at the feeling.

“Perfect.” Fenrir muttered as he slowly pulled out and slid back in, teasing himself more than her as he started to find a rhythm. The hand that wasn’t holding her hip trailed up her side and rested just below her throat. “Put your hand on my arm, if you want me to stop squeeze or pull away and I will. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” Hermione panted as the speed of his thrusts increased. Feeling his hand applying slight pressure to her throat was enough to turn her on even further. She did as he requested and placed one hand on his forearm, and slid the other between their bodies.

Fenrir kept a constant pressure on her neck while steadily increasing the speed and strength of his thrusts. Hermione began to rub her clit quickly in a pattern that had her body tensing deliciously.

It was only a few minutes later when Hermione tossed her head back and closed her eyes as the orgasm crashed over her. Her toes curled into the carpet, back raised up slightly pushing Fenrir just the little bit further inside of her. As she came, Fenrir released her throat and settled both hands on her hips as he continued thrusting into her. Hermione was still shaking from the orgasm as Fenrir again picked up speed. His hands were bruisingly tight on her hips, short nails digging into her skin just enough to create the perfect combination of pleasure and pain.

“Going to cum inside you,” Fenrir groaned out after a few moments. “Going to fill your pretty cunt with my cum.”

“Fuck yes, please.” Hermione moaned out as Fenrir fucked her harder still. When he finally came, Hermione was pleased to hear a drawn out moan from the man. His hips quickly pistoned against hers as his cock twitched and emptied inside of her.

“Fucking perfect,” Fenrir whispered as he collapsed on top of her, holding himself up on his forearms. He placed a kiss to her forehead and then pulled back a tiny bit so he could make eye contact with her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great.” Hermione replied reassuringly. She knew that fucking eachother meant neither one of them would be able to just walk away, it had felt too good and she knew it would never be that good with anyone else. “Let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep. We can figure the rest out tomorrow.”

Fenrir picked her up gently, his softening cock slipping out of her, and started to walk towards the bathroom. “I like the sound of that.”


End file.
